


my dear my dear oh dear

by silentstreets



Category: Bastille, Stormers
Genre: Band, Bastille - Freeform, Dan Smith - Freeform, M/M, will farquarson - Freeform, will/dan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2559464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentstreets/pseuds/silentstreets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uni Dan/Football jock Will is my favourite thing in the world</p>
            </blockquote>





	my dear my dear oh dear

“You again,” I say, grinning at her as I pass over her muffin and coffee.

“Me again. I didn’t ask you to work late night shifts.” She mutters, biting hungrily into the muffin.

“This is the only 24 hour café on campus,” I point out, still smiling.

“Whatever.” My smile falls slightly, but she probably can’t be bothered making conversation with her overly friendly barista.

She takes the table in the corner, the only one that’s near a power point where she can plug in her dying laptop. The girl gulps down her black coffee, waiting for the caffeine to kick in. She looks tired, staring blankly at her laptop screen. She groans, running her hand through her hair in frustration.

“You okay?” I call.

She must’ve forgotten I was here.

“Fine!”

“Would you like another coffee?” I offer, approaching the table with two cups of coffee. I pull out the chair and sit opposite her.

The chair scrapes against the tiles and the sudden noise makes her jump, her knee hitting the table.

“Thanks,” She says, taking the coffee from me.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a wallet, but I stop her before she can take any change out. “Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad not paying.” She closes her wallet, smiling awkwardly.

“You could tell me your name instead,” I say.

Her smile falters. Oh god, that wasn’t meant to come across like that.

“I’d really rather pay.” She opens her wallet again, glaring at me all the while.

“I’m kidding. I’m _kidding_. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll let you get on with your… whatever you’re doing. What are you writing about?”

“I have no idea,” She turns the computer towards me and watches my face as I read the heading.

“Oh! I can help you with that. I did this course last year.”

“Really? That’d be great. I have no clue what I’m doing.”

I tut. “Bad student. Have you been ditching lectures again?” I wag my finger at her.

“God, just shut up and help me.”

“You don’t have to call me God, just Will is fine.”

She has to laugh at that.

“So, Will…” She trails off, noticing how I keep glancing at the door. “This is a bit dodgy, isn’t it? You, me. Alone in a café past midnight.”

I grow visibly uncomfortable. “This isn’t uh, what you think. I swear. I’m actually-”

The door swings open and a tall guy enters, his huge backpack overflowing with books, and more yet held in his arms.

I jump up, happy to see my boyfriend. “Dan! Let me help you. Here,” I take the books out of his arms, dumping them on a nearby table.

“This is Dan. Uh, Dan, this is… I don’t actually know. She won’t tell me her name.”

Dan laughs, holding out his hand for her to shake.

She’s getting more and more uncomfortable, now alone with two guys, late at night. Campus is completely empty, save for the library, which isn’t even near here.

“I’m Jenna,” She says, shaking Dan’s hand.

The moment she lets go, she starts packing her stuff, probably hoping to get out before anything dodgy happens.

“Jenna, I swear to god, this isn’t how it seems,” I say, putting my hand on her arm.

She shakes me off. “Don’t… please don’t touch me.”

“Jenna,” Dan seems to have caught on to what was happening, “Will is my _boyfriend_. We’ve been together since our first year here. We _live_ together.”

“Right, and is that what you tell all the girls you corner in an empty café?” She looks sceptical, and slightly nervous.

I wrap my arm around Dan’s narrow body, pressing him into my side and resting my hand on his hip. He leans his head against my shoulder, smiling at Jenna. Slowly, she smiles back. Dan has such an infectious smile, and such a kind and trusting face. If he couldn’t convince her we were innocent, no one could. I look up at the clock and find that my shift is over in five minutes. As if he was on standby, the guy who takes the 12-4 shift comes in.

“Hey, Will. Dan, hey man, it’s been a while.” He waves at us.

“Hey Woody, we’re gonna head off now, if you don’t mind?” I ask.

“Yeah, no problem. See you later.”

We wave to Jenna on our way out, and though Dan seems to want to stay and chat, I’m eager to get home.

We decide to walk home, because it's not  _freezing_ outside, and it's not too far anyway. Dan seems to be almost asleep by the time I'm unlocking the door to our apartment. He's leaning against me, essentially using me to stay on his feet. But he's so light it doesn't really bother me. I guess being captain of the football team in high school did have  _some_ perks. It sort of makes up for the broken noses and sprained ankles.

Dan falls face down onto the bed, groaning in pain. I'm instantly alert.

"Are you okay? Do you need something? Are you in pain?"

"I think I did my back again."

God, that'd be the third time this month.

"Wait here," I tell him, which is stupid because I don't think he's going to be moving any time soon.

I go into the bathroom and grab the deep heat lotion and painkillers from the medicine cupboard. 

Back in the bedroom, Dan has pulled the blanket over himself, not even bothering to take off his shoes, which hang off the end of the bed. I crouch down and pull them off, then his take off his socks too. I turn on the lamp by the bed and switch off the main lights, then sit on the bed beside him.

"Dan, take off your shirt, I'll give you a back rub," I say softly.

"I'm okay," he says, turning to me. As he does, his face scrunches up in pain.

"Come on. I've got nurophen for you too. It'll help."

"Fine, okay. Thank you." He sits up slowly, and I help him ease his t-shirt over his head.

He lies back down on his front and for the first time I spot the dark bruises near his hip.

"Shit. That looks awful. What happened?"

"I... some guys shoved me around and I bumped into a desk. They called me... things. That was a few days ago though, nothing to do with my back."

Oh, Dan. I lie down beside him and kiss his shoulder softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm honestly okay," he says, turning to face me. "What they said hurt more than anything. Now how about that back rub? It still hurts, you know."

I'm not sure if he's talking about the bruise or his back or their words, but I sit up and put some deep heat cream on Dan's back. As I massage Dan's tense shoulders, a sigh escapes his lips. I rub the cream in circles all the way down his back, carefully avoiding the dark purple bruise.  By the time I'm done, Dan is almost asleep, so I pull the covers back over him and slide into bed next to him. I try to shut my eyes and get to sleep, but I can't look away from his face. From his delicate lips to his thick eyebrows and long eyelashes. He is my entire universe, and I don't think I’ve ever loved someone like I love him. I close my eyes, finally.

~

I remember when we first met, what a total douche bag I was. I’d got into the university because I was a football player with a scholarship. I trained several hours a day, and was taking some easy classes just to pass the semester. I’d taken up some writing course, probably because even back then I’d had the common sense to realise that without writing I wouldn’t even be able to write a resume to apply for a job. The first day of class, I’d come in late, hung over and with no pens or paper or anything. I’d slumped at a desk at the back, beside a scrawny kid with a massive backpack full of books. As the class went on, I realised that sleeping wasn’t an option as the professor liked to stroll up and down the rows of desks, and that I would not be passing this class without a pen and paper. Carefully, so as not to get caught, I leant over to the kid sitting beside me.

“Hey,” I whispered.

He jumped slightly, looking over at me with a slightly scared expression. I smiled slighty to show I wasn’t going to be mean or anything, and then asked “Can I borrow a pen, please? And some paper?”

He smiled back, relieved I wasn’t going to be a douche bag, and passed over a blue pen and a piece of paper. I mouthed _thank you_ and sat back up. As I did, I caught a glance of the notebook he’d been scribbling in furiously for the past fifteen minutes, and was absolutely stunned by the amount of notes he’d taken. I looked back down at my own blank paper, then up at the professor, who was still outlining the course. At the end of the lesson, the kid hurried out of class, and I didn’t have a chance to give him back his pen.

Later on, in the dining hall at lunch, I spotted the kid sitting alone at a table eating pizza and reading a book. I knew that when people sat alone, it was usually because they wanted to study, but I didn’t think this was the case with him. I think he was sitting alone because he had no one to sit with. For some reason, even though the guys from my team were calling me over to sit with them, I waved them off and went over to his table. When I sat opposite him he looked up, his mouth full of pizza, and I was startled by how blue his eyes were, super bright in contrast with his dark eyebrows and hair.

“I, uh…” I momentarily lost track of what I was going to say. “I’ve got your pen.” I finally said after an awkward two second silence.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” he said, taking it from me.

“What was your name again?” I ask, taking a mouthful of pasta.

“I’m Dan. You?”

“Will… I’m Will.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

He glanced at his phone, then looked up at me. “I’ve gotta go, my class is in ten. See you later?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Bye.”

He started packing his bag, and was just about to leave when I had an idea.

“Do you want to study together tonight? I really need help with the essay, and I feel like you know your stuff?” The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about them.

“Sure, I finish at 5. Is the library okay?” He said.

“Great. Perfect. See you then.”

He stood, and I followed, not wanting to sit alone.

“Are you leaving too?” He asked, looking confused. “You just got here.” His voice is soft.

“No, I want to sit with my mates,” I said, gesturing over to the table where my team was sitting.

“You’re on the football team?”

“Yeah, captain,” I said proudly.

“Oh, okay. This isn’t… you know. Some kind of prank or anything?”

“I’m… No. No, of course it’s not!” I think my genuine surprise had convinced him I was telling the truth.

He started to head off. “Well, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, see you.”

I picked up my tray and weaved my way through the sea of tables, sitting down next to Josh.

“Who was that loser?” He laughed.

“Oh, just some kid from class. I needed to get notes from him, I’d slept through half the lesson,” I lie.

“Why him? Why not that blonde girl over there?”

“Would you be getting notes from someone who spent their lesson texting and writing some guy’s name over and over in her notebook?”

“Fair point. Make sure the poof doesn’t flirt with you though. Can’t have a gay captain!” He clapped me on the shoulder so hard I almost ended up with my face in the pasta.

I gritted my teeth, then grinned and said, “nah, ‘course not!”

But inside my mind was screaming _oh my god, I’m not gay am I? I can’t be gay_.

Because twist it as I might, Dan was cute, and I could not stop thinking about the way the slight dimple in his cheek deepened when he smiled, and how he licked his lips after he finished his pizza.

~

On my way to the library I gave myself a little talk.

_Will, you are not gay. You have had many girlfriends and are definitely straight so why the hell should that change for some scrawny kid? He’s just helping you study. Just. Helping. You. Study. Nothing else._

When I got there, Dan was already inside, his nose once again buried in some book.

I sat down beside him and he looked up wearily, making me not so sure that he believed that this wasn’t a practical joke.

“Hey, how are you?” I didn’t give him a chance to reply. “Do you reckon you could explain the poetry part to me again? I completely spaced out and I have no idea what I’m supposed to write about.”

His eyes actually lit up at the prospect of talking about it.

“Sure! Hang on.” He shuffled through his folder, which was somehow already overflowing with papers even though uni started two days ago. “Oh no. I left them in my dorm. Do you want me to go get them or are you okay with going over something else?”

“Uh, yeah. Let’s get them. I’ll come with you. We can study there if you want?”

“Yeah, okay.” He swept everything off the desk into his bag, and we headed off to the dorms.

His room, as it turned out, was a single dorm.

“Woah, you got a single? Your parents must be _loaded_!”

“I got a full scholarship, so uh. Yeah. They’re not really.”

He kicked the door shut behind us and sat down at the desk, looking through his papers while I made myself comfortable on his bed, sitting on the edge with my feet scuffing the carpet. I felt awkward and out of place, and this wasn't a feeling I was used to.

“So, it’s your first year here?” I asked him.

“Yep, what about you?”

“Second. I’m sick of it actually.”

“Really? Why?”

“The stupid football team takes up all my time, and because of it I don’t have time to meet new people so all my mates are buffoons. You’re the first person I’ve spoken to in ages that has an IQ above 70.”

“God, sounds dull,” he said, smiling at me sympathetically.  “Ha!” he said triumphantly, holding up a sheet of paper, “here we go.”

He sat beside me on the bed and started going over the notes, and I had to remind myself every thirty seconds that _I am straight_. Though the longer I watched him talk and listened to him speak the more I realised that this probably was not true. But I also knew that I couldn’t go around making rash decisions, and then even if I was gay, and if by some chance Dan fell in love with me, we still wouldn’t be able to go anywhere because someone had suggested some stupid pact that as long as you were on the football team you couldn’t date.

As time went on though, first weeks and then months, we realised we would have to work a way around this pact. It had started with blowjobs here and there, me repeating “this is just a _casual_ no homo thing. This means nothing” in my head the whole time. Okay, maybe not the _whole_ time, but still. Then it was making out with movies playing on Dan’s shitty laptop in the background. Then it was me sneaking around to his room after dinner and spending the night with him. More than anything it was hard not to tell anyone, because I had no one to tell that wouldn’t result in me being bashed or kicked off the team. Because of Dan, my grades had picked up, and I’d decided to quit the team the following year. They had been invited to play elsewhere, but I’d decided to stick around here, so I’d told them I wanted to finish my education. They laughed, they mocked me, and then they left. And after a few more months, maybe six or seven months from when Dan and I had first started dating, (it still felt weird to refer to Dan as my boyfriend at this point) we’d decided to tell someone. One person. A guy from my work, who was basically my only mate now that the team had left. And he’d been cool with it, except within a week, just about everyone knew. As we’d feared, there were assholes who threw horrible words in our direction whenever we walked past, but they were a minority. One group of guys, and that was it.

Dan introduced me to his mates, and slowly my circle of friends expanded. I was no longer a big headed jock, which felt great. I was finally around smart people, I was trying hard in all my classes, and I was reading book after book. Dan had introduced me to the world of books and movies and music, and I suddenly found myself immersed in a world I had never even imagined.

After a year or so, hallway through Dan’s second year of uni, we’d decided to move in together. It all seemed a bit soon, but Dan’s room was too far from mine, and we had virtually no privacy. And if we needed any more reasons as to why we should move, Dan had been kicked out of his single dorm and was now sharing a room with a ridiculously homophobic guy who wouldn’t speak even a single word to him. So we’d found a cheap apartment ten minutes from campus and pooled our money and somehow managed to keep up with the rent.

~

I open my eyes, and see Dan curled into almost a ball, his arms wrapped around himself. He’s breathing irregularly, and whether it’s because he’s cold or having a nightmare I’m not sure, but I shuffle closer and fit my chest to his back, bringing my arm over his body and taking his hand in mine, stroking it gently. His breath seems to leave him in a sigh and he snuggles closer, clearly not as asleep as I’d thought. His legs straighten out and his whole body just relaxes, and when I pull the blanket up to our chins, he falls asleep almost instantly. I try to sleep, again, but I can’t because of what happened to Dan. I can’t stop thinking about how those idiots picked on him. How they shoved him around and called him names even though he did _nothing_ to them. I feel so ridiculously protective over Dan it’s not even funny. It was cute at first, Dan always told me that. But now, I just feel as though, being a buff ex-football player, I need to protect Dan from the world and keep him from harm. And I guess in a way that’s clingy and over-protective, and I do try to keep those feelings tucked away deep inside me, but at moments like these, where Dan is completely helpless and innocent, I feel a need to kill the guys that hurt him like this. I love him so much, he is so dear to me. I cannot imagine what life would be like without him.

I try, all I might to get to sleep but I just really, really can’t.

“Dan,” I shake him awake.

He rolls over and faces me, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Yeah?” His voice is husky, and he glances at my eyes, my nose, my mouth, as he speaks.

“I know it’s late, but will you make out with me?”

**Author's Note:**

> I really felt the need to write this and it's not even that long but it still took me two days. It also probably makes no sense because I didn't proof read but oh well :-)


End file.
